Doctor Who: Next Stop: Everywhere
by Man-Man in a Box
Summary: A collection of short stories that aims to offer a series of 'glimpses' into the Doctor and Clara's lives as they fight monsters, save civilisations and get to know each other better. While it is not a necessity I recommend reading my previous story 'A Night To Remember' before reading this as this story presumes you are familiar with several themes from that story.
1. Chapter 1: The King's Robot

**Next Stop: Everywhere**

Chapter 1: King George I and His Decapitated Robot Double

_Right, so, lets get this off the ground, shall we? First up we have a little story elaborating on an adventure mentioned in 'A Night To Remember'. That's right, it's time to find out about King George the First and the alien assassins hired to kill him..._

With the Doctor's assistance, Clara Oswald slammed the large wooden doors shut with enough force to almost cause the lavish, oaken entrance to fall off it's own hinges. The Doctor noticed a polished suit of armour to his right. In a quick, desperate movement, he drew the large sword from it's holster on the Knight's hip and forced the reflective blade through the door's golden handles. Before stepping back, arms raised, as he watched to see if it would hold.

Clara was still pushing against the door with the combined weight of her arms, legs and torso. There was a constant force pushing back against her, combined by a vicious, angry banging sound.

The Doctor stepped forwards once more, placing his hands on Clara's shoulders and slowly moving her back from the door. He elaborated on his plan as he removed her from the door. "Clara, come away from the door, I want to see if it'll hold without you..." He spoke with an almost-excited, fascinated tone, as if he could hardly wait to see if the mysterious, alien life forms would easily destroy the door before burning them to a crisp.

The dreadful banging sound continued as the door shook violently. But it never opened, the sword had held it in it's place. The shaking had stopped, the banging had stopped, what were the aliens doing now?

Clara glanced over at the Doctor, his eyes were half closed and his face screwed up in painful expectation.

Eventually, he relaxed his face and shoulders and looked over at Clara. "Well, good, the door is holding, and they've given up... For now. They'll be back though, we should find a place to hide..."

Clara nodded while speaking "Agreed."

They both turned around, examine their surroundings. The room they were in was beautifully designed and lavishly furnished, the wall was covered in embroidered wallpaper with silk and gold trimmings. The bed they were standing in-front of was partially veiled by translucent curtains, and there was only the one door.

The Doctor spotted a carefully crafted, large wooden cupboard sitting in one corner of the large room. It was next to the extensive and excessively tall bookcase that stretched to the painted ceiling.

The Doctor clicked his fingers, gaining Clara's attention, and pointed towards the cupboard. "In there! They won't think of looking in there."

He gripped one of her clammy, stressed-out hands and ran towards the cupboard, before opening it and sliding inside. Luckily, the cupboard contained no shelves and was currently storing no obtrusive objects. The Doctor waited until Clara had squeezed in in-front of him before losing the door, casting them into darkness, although they could still see each other through the shadows.

A few beams of light were slinking their way into the cupboard, they landed on the Doctor's face. It was a tight squeeze, despite the cupboards' large area and fortunate lack of shelves. Clara was quite small and thin, so she was pushed against one wall. The Doctor was much taller, he had to hunch slightly to avoid banging his head on the cupboards' ceiling. But he was still pushed up against the opposite wall, with just a few millimetres between him and Clara, he could feel her body partially pressed up against his chest, it made him feel slightly uncomfortable.

"So, this was a good idea was it?" Clara said to his face quite loudly, in an angered tone.

The Doctor just shushed her, he was going to raise one finger too his lips but that would of been difficult.

Clara didn't listen to him, she continued, although thankfully in a hushed whisper. "How was this a good idea? Explain to me."

The Doctor replied quickly and quietly, in a similar tone to hers. "I dunno, it was just the first thing I saw when I searched the room..."

"So, you didn't see the bed? We could've gone under the bed."

"It was a spur-of-the-moment thing. A trio of super-powered, cloak-wearing, alien hit-men were chasing us with swords and laser blasts and they ability to stop time and I was stressed, and desperate and..." As he spoke, his tone became more rapid, he managed to complete the whole last sentence without taking a single breath.

This time, it was Clara who silenced him. "Shhhhhh... I think I can hear something..."

Intrigued, the Doctor stopped talking and concentrated on straining his ears. A gentle, extra-terrestrial humming sound was echoing through the room before 'BANG!' The sound of wood exploding was accompanied by a loud, sudden sound.

In surprise and fright, Clara gripped the Doctor's shoulders and forced herself towards him, seemingly absent-mindedly. He pushed himself up against the wall as she buried her head on his shoulder. He wasn't really sure what to do, he just put on his 'this is weird' face and stiltedly patted her head.

As he did this with one hand, he reached out with his other and groped for the door handle. He found the metal door knob and turned it, before slowly exiting into the now-hazy room.

Smoke was pouring out of the charred and melted doorframe, the actual door and been reduced to dust and splinters, they were now covering the room.

Clara followed him closely as he carefully navigated the minefield of chunks of burning hot wood. He gripped her hand, using his free hand to wipe away some of the smoke in-front of him.

Suddenly, a hooded and mysterious figure stood before him, it's dark, misshaped shadow cut through the smoke strikingly. The Doctor immediately froze, raising both his free hand and the hand he was gripping Clara's with into the air. Clara herself was now standing next to him, she looked both startled and frightened.

As if it was mimicking him, the cloaked figure raised one gloved hand into the air as well, in an instant, two identical figures appeared beside it, out of thin air. They looked like duplicates of death himself...

Then, they slowly began to walk across the wreckage in a sweeping, gliding motion. The were closing in on the Doctor and Clara, who gripped each others hand more tightly and backed up slowly, towards the bed.

"Uh... Right." The Doctor stammered. "Time for a plan."

"Yeah, I think it's definitely that time..." Clara agreed.

The Doctor went over their current position and what he knew about the assassins. "Well. Um, uh... Wait! No, actually, I think I've got one."

Clara was getting impatient, the hooded figures were closing in on them slowly but surely. She said in a hurried, slightly sing-song voice. "What is it?"

"Just... Just run!"

"Sounds good to me."

With this, she gripped his hand tightly and followed him closely as he ran past the trio of hooded aliens.

Without looking back or placing their eyes anywhere but right in-front of them, the Doctor and Clara ran through the marble-floored corridor before making a sharp turn right and bumping into the damaged robotic version of King George the First that the Doctor had hooked up to protect the real King George I.

The robot was almost identical appearance-wise to the real thing, although it's plating and mock skin-tissue had ripped off in some places, exposing complex circuitry and wiring. It's wig was disheveled and sparks were flying from all sorts of places. It had taken a direct shot to the chest just 10 minutes ago by an alien sniper, the shot had clearly fried some of it's systems.

As the Doctor examined the damage to the robot, Clara looked behind herself impatiently. She could see the rich marble corridor they had just ran through, the corner they had just cleared was being rounded by the hooded aliens slowly but surely.

Clara turned around and tried to get his attention. "Uh, Doctor, they're coming..."

The Doctor didn't reply, his back was turned to her as he used his Sonic Screwdriver on the broken robot as it sparked and malfunctioned in a jittery, sudden fashion. As he worked, he muttered under his breath, ignoring the presence of an increasingly-impatient Clara and the trio of sinister assassin's.

Clara turned around once more, looking at the trio of malevolent figures. The tension was building up inside her, it wanted to burst out in an explosive movement, to get her to run as fast as she could. She knew the TARDIS was just around the corner, she could easily escape... But she assumed the Doctor had a plan in that brain of his, she assumed what he was doing with the machine was going to help them escape and defeat the creatures in a glory of adrenaline and satisfaction.

The Doctor interrupted her thoughts with a sudden and loud exclamation. "Hah! Got it. I've re-calibrated the central computer's programming, it's aim is no longer to protect the King by pretending to be him but to instead destroy anything that intends to harm the King. I've also rerouted the escaping power to it's hands, it should now be able to harm anything it needs to with an electric shock." He got all of this out very quickly, he seemed to finally acknowledge the fact that they didn't have much time to kill.

Gripping Clara's hand once more and pulling her away from the hooded figures and behind the robot, the Doctor continued. "Right, now all I need to do is reactivate it." With this he pointed the Sonic Screwdriver at it and activated it.

The robot rose up from it's slumped-over position and began to spark once more. It clenched it's hands and rolled it's head to either side before stepping forwards in a series of jittery, stilted movements. It raised it's hands as it lumbered towards the shady trio of slowly-moving hoods.

They both continued moving forwards until they were less then a few centimetres away from each other. One of the hooded aliens, the one in the centre, clicked it's gloved figures before gripping the scabbard of a polished blade tightly and moving it side-wards. In a sweeping movement, it cut through the air before making contact with the wigged head of the robot double. The sharp blade had more then enough strength behind it to cut the head of the robot off quickly and cleanly. Clara let out a small gasp before watching as the separated head rolled away from the still-standing body, the neck was now nothing but a mess of glowing wires.

Robots cannot feel pain, however, and so King George the First's robot body-double took one more step forwards, before sinking it's charged-up hands onto the shoulders of the groups central figure. Clara and the Doctor both watched from their position at the end of the corridor as the hooded alien retracted from the robot double, stumbling away from it in a flailing movement, sparks were flying from it's body. Before long, all three of the aliens were tripping over their own feet and silently thrashing around in the floor in a flurry of electrical energy.

Clara did not wish to see the demise of the mysterious creatures, so she turned away from the scene and began to run down the corridor to her right. The TARDIS, her motivation, their ticket away from the conflict that was occurring in the palace, was standing at the end, pushed up against a wall.

The Doctor watched for a few more seconds as the now-decapitated robot stood solemnly before the dying figures, it's severed head resting against it's legs. He then turned to his right, following Clara's lead and dashing into the TARDIS, before closing the door behind him. Leaving the Palace Guard to piece together what exactly had just happened.

_Yeah, this was quite fast-paced, strange and light-hearted, but after the emotional roller coaster of 'A Night to Remember' with all it's dialogue about suicide and the dark setting I decided to kick this collection of short stories off with something easy to read and easy to write, this was just meant to be a fun little adventure featuring the Doctor and Clara. Next time things will get a little deeper and will begin to focus on the story arc these four adventures are following, it will also reveal what happened between 'The Crimson Horror' and 'Nightmare in Silver'... Remember to review if you think this could be improved and follow me as an author for all the latest on this series of stories. If you want you can also PM me with an idea for a short story._


	2. Chapter 2: One of the Wednesdays

Chapter 2: One of the Wednesdays...

_I hope you enjoyed the last chapter/story, I wrote it over the course of an hour of two, so it was pretty basic... I just wanted something simple to start with, before things start to get more interesting. Remember, Private-Message me if you have an idea for a story, follow me on Instagram for all the latest news on the stories, and review this story if you think it could be improved in some way or another._

Clara looked up at the Doctor's face as he leant back against the blue of the TARDIS's exterior. "Let's see... It's Tuesday now so... Tomorrow maybe?"

"Good, that's perfect. Wednesdays, Wednesdays, boring days, can always do with a bit of time-travel to brighten them up." As he spoke enthusiastically he stepped backwards into the interior of the TARDIS.

They both exchanged a smile before he waved her off and fully retreated into the TARDIS, closing the door behind him.

As the TARDIS dematerialised gusts of unearthly wind blew her messy and knotted brown hair in all directions. They had just got back from an adventure in Victorian Yorkshire, involving red leaches from a bygone age and an insane old lady. In order to blend in with the time, she wore a Victorian dress and had to curl her hair up. She had since changed back into more modern clothing, but hadn't yet had a chance to straighten her hair to it's usual straight, shoulder-length style.

She brushed a few misplaced locks out of her eyes and watched as the little blue box disappeared from view. After the final faded remnants of blue wood had dematerialised, she turned back around and began to walk along the concrete sidewalk that led to the Maitland family home.

Everything looked so normal yet so strange... She was used to exploring strange worlds and visiting other time periods by now, after all that the normal looked so... Mundane.

There was a slight chill in the morning air as a few lonely autumn leaves blew across the ground, gathering in clusters near the gates and neat little gardens of semi-detached, two-story houses. Cars occasionally passed her as they drove along the road, she was joined on the sidewalks by people jogging or riding bikes, and, as she approached the home of the Maitland's, young Artie and Angie.

"...And where have you been?" Angie asked teasingly, getting her attention.

She turned her brown eyes away from the other houses and onto the pair in-front of her. The two kids were standing side-by-side before her, arms folded up and eyebrows raised, they were mockingly scolding her, giving her a taste of her own medicine.

"I was... Uh, I was just..." She replied awkwardly, the cogs inside her head were spinning rapidly, trying to fabricate a false story that would explain where she had been to their inquisitive ears.

She pointed one thumb behind her as she swallowed and continued. "I'm just walking home from..." She trailed off again. The kids just looked at her, their arms remained folded.

She was going to continue with her reply before Angie cut her off. "Where were you... And who was that strange man?"

"Oh, so you?"

"Yep, we saw you two a few minutes ago..." Artie piped up.

"H-He's my... He's my boyfriend." She stammered out the first few words, before finishing confidently.

"I didn't think you were the 'boyfriend' type, Clara." Angie teased.

"I-I'm not..." She quickly replied.

Angie and Artie raised their eyebrows, she continued. "But... But he's special. He's been taking me places, nice places..."

"What sort of places? Where have you two been?" Angie replied.

"We've just been walking on the sidewalk. Holding hands and... Kissing." She finished, blushing slightly in embarrassment.

Artie nodded slowly, speaking as he did so, he didn't sound convinced. "Uh-huh..."

Angie that nudged Artie, addressing him as she did so. "C'mon Artie, we need to talk..." Before the two of them begun to walk away from Clara, down the sidewalk and into a small alleyway.

Clara watched them disappear from sight before running her hands through her knotted hair, and breathing a sigh of belief. She wasn't sure they were entirely convinced by her story, but at-least they hadn't found out about the TARDIS. She didn't think the Doctor would like kids running around and touching things in his TARDIS...

_Cue the last five minutes of 'The Crimson Horror'._

"It's called the TARDIS, it can travel anywhere and everywhere, and yes, it's bigger on the inside." He turned his back to them and dashed up to the console in one swift, energetic movement.

He then bent over and began to flick switches and press flashing buttons on the console. Behind him he could hear the collective gasps of awe from the two kids, he glanced over at them as they looked up at the glowing walls and hexagonal panels, at the time rotor as it slowly rose and fell, and at the console and it's glowing lights and moving parts whirled and beeped in welcome.

Artie managed to choke out just one word through his awestruck mouth. "Wow... I-I... Wow..."

Glancing over at him, the Doctor smiled in reply. Before looking to his right, Clara was kneeling on the console beside him, a nervous smiled planted on her face. The Doctor furrowed his brow and asked her. "What's wrong?"

She looked into his eyes for a second, before swallowing and replying. "Oh, it's just, I didn't think you'd want children in the TARDIS, considering you hold it so dear... I-I tried to stop them but..."

"Don't worry, new passengers are always welcome. If you thought I wouldn't like them in the TARDIS though, why'd you invite them?"

"I didn't... They... They blackmailed me. With photos." She finished with a nod.

The Doctor furrowed his brow once more, he was intrigued. "Photos? What photos?"

"Luckily I printed them out, show him Artie. They found them on the internet and at school..."

Artie handed the Doctor two printed out sheets of paper, they each contained a photograph of the Doctor and Clara during one of their adventures. He took the paper and began to examine the photos printed on them.

One of the photos depicted the Doctor and Clara standing in the Soviet Russian Submarine after the whole ordeal with the Ice Warrior. They were soaking wet and were accompanied by several of the sub's crew members, including the bearded, uniformed Captain Zhukov and the eccentrically dressed Professor Grisenko. They all glowed red in the dark light of the submarines' hallways, and didn't look as if they were aware they were having their photo taken.

The Doctor swapped the pictures around, holding the second one up to the light of the Time Rotor. In it the Doctor and Clara were standing beneath the Grand Staircase of Caliburn House. They were surrounded by strange electrical equipment and were accompanied by Emma Grayling and Professor Palmer. Again, they looked oblivious and unaware that they were having their photograph taken.

He rubbed his eyes and breathed heavily out as he tried to figure out how the photos were possible, he sat back down on the TARDIS' leather seat as he stared at them. He remembered both adventures clearly, the one onboard the Firebird, with the Ice Warrior...  
And the one in Caliburn House, with the psychic and the ghost hunter, he remembered them both vividly, and Clara did too. They were real, they had both happened, but at neither point in either of them had someone walked in and taken a photo...

He rubbed his eyes once more, these photos were impossible, they couldn't exist... But here they were, he was holding copies of them in his hands. Who had taken the photos? Why had they taken them? How had they taken them?

His concentration was broken by Clara, his mind tried to shut her voice out, but she managed to break through his mental defences and draw his attention away from the photos. "Doctor? Doctor!"

"Yes?" He looked up at her from his position on the seat. She was still leaning on the console, and was flanked by Artie and Angie, who were also looking down at him.

"Can we finish examining those photos later and actually go somewhere? I promised the kids they were going to get a trip in the time-machine..."

"Uh, sure, ok..." He stood up, placing the photos on the seat before stretching his hands, cracking his knuckles, and skipping towards the console with a renewed sense of enthusiasm.

As he dashed towards one of the glowing control panels, he continued. "This ship, this machine, it can go anywhere... **Anywhere** you want, **anytime** you want!" He paused for a second, before holding a single finger up and continuing. "...One condition though, it has to be amazing!"

"So... Do you have a particular place in mind?" Clara responded.

"You bet I do Clara Oswald! 'Hedgewicks' World of Wonders' the biggest and best amusement park there will ever be!" He exclaimed.

He pulled a few levers on the control panel he was leaning on and the Time Rotor began to rise and fall more rapidly. The roar of the TARDIS engines begun to echo through the rooms' walls. The rails, walls and floor began to vibrate, lights began to flash and strange moving parts began to whir and change.

The Doctor, Clara, Artie and Angie all held on as the TARDIS spun wildly through the vortex, whisking them away from the ordinary and slamming them head-first into the extraordinary.

_Cue the beginning of 'Nightmare In Silver'._

_I hope everyone enjoyed that. And before you ask, yes, the photos do have something to do with the rifts in time and one particular alien race..._


	3. Chapter 3: Fear of the Dark - Part 1

_So, sorry it took me so long to update this time around, it's much harder to write a new story every chapter then simply upload new segments of one big, planned-out story. I hope you enjoy this one though, it concerns the mystery of the rifts in time and their connection with the almost-extinct Collector race. I'm sure there are some fans of 'A Night to Remember' that aren't aware a new story in the being written so if you guys could spread the sword that would be great!_

"Keep moving as a group, don't split up or allow yourself to be separated. Take the paths through the forest, don't cut through the trees and above all... I can't stress this enough. Don't enter the shadows. Stay in the light!"

The uniformed group of soldiers nodded as one and began to formally march away from the leafy clearing they were standing in. The Doctor watched them disappear into the darkness of the trees with a worried, uncertain expression on his face. They were all equipped with lights inside their suits, but he wasn't sure if that would be enough to fend back them... Vashta Nerada were quite aggressive creatures, once they began to track their prey they... Got a taste for them.

As they filed out of the shady clearing and stepped back out into the cool, snowy night the Doctor counted them off. After the last soldier stepped into the forest the Doctor stopped his count. 6. There were 6 of them left. They had lost poor Dredric and Jasmine previously but there were 6 of them left. That was good, 6 was a nice, solid number... 8 would've been better but, sadly, that could no longer be. Unless you counted in the Doctor himself and Clara, who, despite his instructions, had remained standing in-front of the mossy rock the Doctor was situated on, looking up at him.

He turned around, examining his environment. They were on the surface of the forest planet Gladriel, otherwise known as the '706th Wonder of the Universe'. It was a planet whose orbital rotation had been locked, one half was facing a sun and moon that heated it up. The other half was facing a 'cold star', a star that's radiation froze that section of the planet, killing off all life that wasn't compatible with it's rays.

Once they had accidentally landed on the dark side of the planet, the side that was locked in an eternal winter, they had discovered a small group of soldiers who had crash landed in escape pods while scouting the area. They also discovered that the forest they had landed in the middle of was a major nesting ground for the planets' local swarm of Vashta Nerada. They had nested in the trees, and when they were disturbed by the crash landing of the escape pods, they had begun to move again. The shadows, the darkness... Not one of them could be trusted.

Now the Doctor and Clara, along with the platoon, were trying to make their way through the dark, frozen forest to the spot the TARDIS had landed. But the Doctor, as he often did, begun to get sidetracked once they entered a large clearing bathed in moonlight. For moonlight was not the only source of light that made the clearing habitable for them, there was also a strange, unearthly stream of light that was cutting through the trees, casting dark shadows that acted as mines, patches of death. The Doctor wasn't sure what the light was, why it was there, or what was the source of it, but he wanted to find out... He had a hunch, an unescapable sense of curiosity, the light was oddly familiar, he had seen it before...

Aware of his intense curiosity, Clara didn't assume he was to follow them deeper into the shadows of the woods. Yet she still tried to convince him to leave the light and help them find the TARDIS. "Doctor? Can't you come with us, I mean, that light is very interesting and everything but... But we need you, I need you. We want to make it out alive, you want to make it out alive, and we're not leaving this forest without you."

The Doctor wasn't really paying attention to her, he was more focused on the calculations he was making with his Sonic Screwdriver as he waved it towards the lit-up patch of forest. He did find time to reply to her, however. "Just keep moving, I'll catch up, don't worry."

"But what if you don't? What if you can't? Right now you're examining a potentially dangerous object that you know next-to-nothing about." After she finished she let out a little shiver as a few stray snow flakes fluttered down onto her scalp.

He clicked the Sonic Screwdriver shut and looked over at her, he was standing on the top of a series of rather large, cold and mossy rocks. He replied with enthusiasm. "I know. Isn't it amazing?"

"You know what they say... Curiosity killed the Time Lord." Clara folded her arms as he turned his back to her once more and continued to stare at the silvery-white colour of the light as it arced and splashed across the cold trees.

He shook his head in reply. "Impossible girl... Clara, honestly, don't worry, I'll be fine. I just want to take a closer look at the light then I'll use the Sonic Screwdriver to track the energy signature of the soldiers' Pulse Rifles, follow the energy signature, and then eventually find the seven of you."

Clara kept her arms folded up as she looked at the tall, Victorian coat-wearing figure who was standing above her. "Make a promise then... Promise me you'll come back."

He still didn't turn to face her. "I always come back."

"I mean it." She sounded truly worried and concerned.

He finally took his eyes off the light that shined before him and faced her. She looked oddly pale and ghostly. Her emotive brown eyes stood out from the rest of her face as the light reflected off them. They looked slightly teary, they were full of concern.

He sat down on the hard surface of the rock and held his face close to her own. "I promise, cross my hearts." He waved his fingers over his chest in a crossing motion as he replied.

She placed one cold hand on his shoulder as she looked into his face, his eyes looked tired and worn-out, they had a strange 'old-yet-new' quality to them. "Just, please, for my sake, come back alive. I don't want to be alone in this forest, with my only company a swarm of carnivorous shadows and a platoon of trigger-happy soldiers. I don't want to die here, and I don't want you to die here just... Be safe, do it for me. Okay?"

He placed one hand on her own shoulder, mimicking her as he replied. "Okay, I'll be five minutes and I'll be careful. Now, you better get moving, you don't want to be left alone in the forests of Gladriel."

With this, he stood up and walked away from her, making his way across the rocks and into the illuminated maze of trees that made up the portion of the forest the light was dancing over.

Clara wasted no more time in the leafy, lit-up clearing. A cool breeze swept through her brown hair, which was tied up in a bun, as she jogged along the path. Staying in the milky moonlight, never straying into the shadows, listening for any voices or signs indicating how far ahead the soldiers were.

Meanwhile, the Doctor squinted in the bright light as he ducked and hopped between the rocks and pebbles that made up a dried-out, frozen creek bed. He reached the end of it and jumped up the bank, stopping in-front of the source of the light.

Behind the tall, frosted army of pines, shrubbery and rocky clearings, there lay a tall, smooth rock wall. And on that rock wall was a jagged opening, not an ordinary opening like you'd witness when visiting most rock walls, no... This opening had a strange, unearthly quality to it. The bright, silvery light danced between the trees, keeping the shadows away, and the source was this fissure in the rock wall.

The Doctor took a few careful, tentative steps closer, the blindingly bright light shone through a crooked smile, a crack, in the rock. As the Doctor moved closer to it it flared up slightly, all around the crack the ground was vibrating, pebbles were falling down slopes and trees were shaking, dropping cold snow and ice on anyone who walked underneath them.

The Doctor stopped just a few meters in-front of the crack. Instead of walking further towards it, he gripped the Sonic Screwdriver once more and began to activate it, pointing it towards the fissure.

As he did this, he muttered underneath his breath. "Ah, a torn-open stitch in the fabric of reality caused by a massive, focused spike of..." He flicked the Sonic Screwdriver up and checked the readings before continuing. "Just as I thought... Artron energy. An open wound in the fabric of reality, allowing passage from one dimension too another, a rift in time, the same kind of rift Gillenti described..."

He stroked his chin with one hand while brushing his hair out of his eye with the other as he examined it. The light was blinding, yet mesmerising at the same time. The crack did not look like it was carved into the rock, instead it looked more like an extremely realistic projection. The Doctor knew why this was, the crack was in the skin of the universe, not in the rock wall itself. He had seen these same sorts of cracks before, last time around, they had also been coated in Artron Energy, the same type of energy that would be released in TARDIS's as they died...

He pocketed the Sonic Screwdriver and took a few more steps across the uneven, vibrating ground. He reached out once hand and stretched it out, he watched as the light danced over his fingers. He then felt a horrible pulling sensation, and watched as a green, clawed hand gripped his wrist and tugged on it with alarming force. The claw was large, muscular, crab-like and scaly, while it was gripping the Doctor's wrist it was also holding a small, tube like device. It was the arm of a Collector.

The Doctor pulled once more, wrapping his spare hand around the claw and applying pressure to it. To his surprise, his wrist was relinquished of the dull pain and the pulling sensation, and his arm came loose. In the confusion, he tripped over his own feet and fell backwards, onto the forest floor. His peripheral vision informed him that the crack had closed, the bright light was swallowed by darkness and a strange, deep rumbling sound accompanied the appearance of shadow.

He stood up immediately, looking down at the dark forest floor to see the small, brown, tube-like device. Wasting no time, he picked it up and pocketed it, before sprinting away from the wall of rock, darting through the trees and across the creek bed, for he could feel the darkness close in... The shadows were moving again.

To be continued...


	4. Chapter 4: Fear of the Dark - Part 2

Chapter 4: Fear of the Dark - Part 2

Clara had the strangest feeling... Like she was being watched. Watched by the trees, or rather, what lay inside them. As she moved slowly along the darkened path, she could feel the frost-covered leaves crunch underneath her shoes. Ahead of her were the platoon of soldiers, who silently filed along the path, guns raised.

Above her hung the night sky, it stretched out endlessly to the horizon, a beautiful star-field made up of glowing silvers and rich purples. The constellations twinkled mesmerisingly in the darkness, and the colourful planets danced across the sea of black. In the centre of it all lay a large sun that glowed a chilly blue, it was orbited by a small, grey moon and was surrounded by a halo of debris and loose rock. Clara could see why Gladriel was considered to be the '706th Wonder of the Universe', for it was a truly spectacular, albeit unfortunately cold and inhospitable, planet.

As she walked along the frozen ground, occasionally the odd snowflake would land on her shoulder or head. The lifeless trees hung around her, casting deadly shadows across the path. But she had little time to appreciate the undoubtably beautiful scenery, for the hairs on the back of her neck informed her that the chill hanging in the bitter air was not entirely physical. She had the strangest feeling, a chilling, fear-stricken feeling, that she was being watched.

Every few minutes she thought she had seen something move in the trees, thought she had heard voices or sounds that hadn't come from the soldiers, or felt the presence of an unfriendly life form.  
Eventually, her strange sensation of an eighth presence was confirmed by a whisper in her ear. It was an especially quiet, ghostly whisper, and it knew her name. "Clara..."

She immediately stopped in her tracks and looked around her, she saw nothing but trees, snow, and shadow...

The voice whispered again, this time it sounded more urgent. "Clara."

She turned around yet again, again she saw nothing but darkness. She lingered with her vision a little while longer this time. She could of sworn something behind her had moved, something in the trees.

She turned back and took one tentative step forward but was impended yet again by the voice. "Clara!"

She turned around yet again to see the face of the Doctor as he ran towards her, Sonic Screwdriver raised and activated. He stopped in-front of her and grinned for a few seconds, she smiled back.

He muttered aloud as he eyed her up and down. "Oh, Clara, Clara, Clara... I came back, didn't I tell you? I always come back..."

"Never doubted you for a second." She replied, before realising how un-true that statement was. She had doubted him, she always doubted him... He was clever, and mad, and capable, but he still had a strange, child-like quality to him. A sense of amazement, of excitement, of energy. A sense of curiosity, and sometimes that curiosity got the better of him, and sometimes she had no choice but to doubt him.

He smiled back for a second, before bringing the subject back to the rift in time. "And, I received some useful information regarding what exactly Gillenti was going on about back on the Titanic. But that's another story for another day..."

He was cut off by a loud scream that echoed throughout the woods, it bounced off the trees and trailed down the paths. The scream came from not-too-far-away, just down the path Clara and the Doctor were following.

He gave Clara a quick glance, before gripping her hand and sprinting down the path as fast as he could, following the sounds of terror that lay ahead.

They rounded a corner and saw a muddled sight. One of the soldiers, a woman with dark, tied-back hair, was screaming at the sight of another soldier, a male, kneeling over and thrashing on the ground. The woman was flanked by two other soldiers, both men, who were pointing their rifles at the violently thrashing figure, who, the Doctor noticed, was wearing his life-support helmet, presumably to access the lights inside and fend off the Vashta Nerada.

The Doctor raised one hand and spoke quickly, addressing the distressed woman. "Don't touch him! Back away from him!"

She nodded and looked away from the figure on the ground, disappearing behind the broad shoulders of the two armed soldiers.

"Don't shoot unless it's on my command!" He addressed the armed soldiers this time, glancing at them only briefly before carefully and slowing stepping towards the shaking figure.

The Doctor swallowed and lowered his voice, asking the soldiers quietly. "What is his name?"

One of the duo replied, in a deep voice. "That's... Uh, that's Gary."

"Okay..." The Doctor trailed off as he knelt down over the figure, his arms were wrapped around his head and he was curled up in the fetal position. He had finally ceased thrashing and now lay just lay there, on the cold, hard ground.

"Gary?" The Doctor asked tentatively, he was trying to handle this peacefully.

He continued after he received no reply. "Gary? Gary are you alright? Speak to me if you're alright."

He received no reply from anyone or anything, just silence. He went to continue when, suddenly, a robotic, stilted voice came from Gary. It spoke in electronic, unsettlingly tones. "Major lacerations detected. Full damage report in progress, please be patient."

Clara spoke in a hushed tone. "Doctor? Doctor what was that?"

"That wasn't Gary... In fact, that sounded like an in-built VI."

"Virtual Intelligence?" She responded.

"Yes, and how would you know that?"

"Thank the Spoonheads."

He smiled at her and her and turned back to Gary, resuming the furrowing of his brow. The robotic voice spoke once more. "Subject identified. Gender: Male, Age: 1105, Species: Time-Lord, Name: Unknown, Status: Deceased."

The Doctor gave an amusing little snigger and replied. "So tell me, Greg's VI. Or should I call you something a little more... Interesting? How about Veg?"

The VI responded in the same emotionless voice it also used. This time, however, something felt... Off about it. There was just something about the VI's electronic tones that sent a chill up Clara's spine now, it had a similar effect with the Doctor. "Deceased. Subject is deceased. Subjects will be deceased, subjects will die... Subjects will die. D-d-die." The VI begun to stutter and make odd, electronic noises.

"What's he doing?!" One of the soldiers yelled, holding his gun up to his face and taking aim at Greg.

"Something that, believe-it-or-not, cannot be fixed by shooting it with a gun!" The Doctor snapped back angrily, before stretching out one hand and tapping Greg on the shoulder, continuing as he did so. "Greg? Greg your VI isn't communicating with me very effectively I think things would be better if you spoke with me directly. Greg, can you even hear me?"  
One of the soldiers, a different one, spoke in an urgent voice. "Doctor!"

The Doctor looked up at him. "What is it?" He demanded, things were getting tense between the Doctor and the platoon. Previously they had unquestionably followed his orders, having been effectively tricked by the Psychic Paper. Now, they seemed to be doubting the Doctor, not respecting his, admittedly-false? authority.

"It's Greg, he... He was three shadows."

The Doctor immediately stood up and backed away from Greg.

"What is it? What does it mean if you have more then one shadow?" Clara asked.

"It means..." The Doctor trailed off, rubbing his eyes and turning away from Greg's unmoving, multi-shadowed form.

He looked up, sniffed, and continued. "I-It means... They've got him. The Vashta Nerada have stripped him of his flesh and left him to die. Cold, lifeless, and alone on a strange, inhospitable frozen planet." He paused for a moment, before raising his voice. "He deserved better! I didn't know Greg very well but he was a person, an individual. A living, breathing, laughing, crying individual. He had likes and dislikes and quirks and emotions... Before you snuck inside his suit and stripped him of his flesh. Oh, I hope your satisfied. Because I'm talking to the Vashta Nerada aren't I? You're in control of Greg's suits' VI. I know and I understand, believe me I understand. This is your forest, your nest, your home and we have landed, and, by your perspective, invaded it. But please, we mean you no harm, if you allow us we'll just walk away from this forest, from your home and leave quickly and quietly, we can end this right now, nobody has to die. Greg was the third, please... Make him the last." He then stopped, and waited in silence for the Vashta Nerada's reply.

"This is our forest..." The VI replied. It hesitated for a second, before continuing. "You are our meat, our food. You have come here like lambs to the slaughter and now... Now we will feast."

With this the Doctor immediately stepped back in fright, for he had seen Greg's hands loosen from their grip around his head. The two soldiers raised their loaded guns, Clara gripped the Doctor's hand tightly and the Doctor watched cautiously as Greg slowly stood up from his curled-up position on the ground.

He placed his gloved palms flat on the cold forest floor, before pushing up on them, raising his helmeted head and straightening his back.

"Can you see his face?!" The Doctor shot at the soldiers, who were facing Greg.

"N-no, sir. Inside his helmet it's just... B-black, nothing but darkness." One of them hastily responded, Greg had stopped in-front of them.

"Keep yourself together everyone, don't shoot anyone or anything unless you have no other choice. Do I make myself clear?" He raised the tone of his voice as he spoke too reach the other three soldiers, who were standing further down the path.

"Yes sir." Both of the soldiers with the loaded guns responded in unison, nevertheless keeping their grip on their weapons tight.

"D-d-d-die..." The VI stuttered and glitched.

"Who is in that suit? Greg? Greg is that you?" Clara softly asked the suited figure.

The Doctor activated the Sonic Screwdriver, waving it over Greg but keeping his distance. He flicked it up and checked the readings, before responding to Clara. "No, no that's not Greg in that suit. Human vital signs are completely absent from the inside, there isn't a human in there... No, that suit is inhabited by hundreds, no, **thousands** of Vashta Nerada. They've latched onto him using the shadows, climbed in, and stripped him of his flesh." He sounded disgusted at the very thought, and who wouldn't be?

"They made a bit of a mess of it though..." One of the soldiers replied.

"What do you mean?" The Doctor responded, pocketing the Sonic Screwdriver in the process.

"Well, we can see his remains through the helmet now it's... Well, it's disgusting."

Intrigued, the Doctor took a few steps forwards, bringing Clara with him. But he was impended by Greg, who turned around suddenly and swung one arm through the air violently all in the space of one split second.

"D-d-d-d-die..." The VI's unsettling voice repeated.

"What's happening?" One of the soldiers shouted to the Doctor, who dodged a weighty uppercut from Greg's suit as it lumbered towards Clara and him.

"The Vashta Nerada are animating his corpse, using it to attack us and maybe even kill us." The Doctor replied while stepping back, dodging another potential blow to the face as he continued. "Because, well... Dead or unconscious targets don't put up much of a fight as you rip the skin from their bones." Greg's suit took another jerky, sudden step forward. The Doctor used it as an opening to duck underneath it's arm, taking Clara along with him by the hand.

He stopped when he reached the duo of soldiers, before turning back to Greg's suit. Releasing what had just happened, the suit begun to slowly turn around.

Clara heard the sound of the very same woman who had discovered Greg say "There's something in the trees! I can feel it, all around... It's like an angry swarm!"

The Doctor moved between the soldiers and ran up to the trio, who were looking all around them, pointing their pistols and rifles at anything that dared move.

"What should we do?" One of the soldiers asked.

"Sir, what is our plan?" A second chimed in urgently.

The Doctor swallowed and replied, looking all around him. He too could feel the Vashta Nerada's presence He could see shadows flicker among the trees, hear the whispers of the swarm... "Scratch the original plan, negotiation is clearly not an option..."

He was interrupted by Greg's VI. "You... Will... Die..."

The woman who had found Greg and spoke before begun to yell at the Doctor. "THEN WHAT IS?!" She shot back.

"Running, just run. And keep running, and never look back." He paused for a second. "Oh, and STAY OUT OF THE SHADOWS!" He added, before retrieving the Sonic Screwdriver and pointing it along the path. "The TARDIS's energy signature is this way, c'mon!"

With this, they began running. Across the icy path, through the trees, over fallen tree-trunks, down small hills... All the time their motivation remained, the persistence of the Vashta Nerada.

Clara could feel the darkness close in all around her. Like the others, she could feel and even hear the presence of the swarm. It was strange, for she really didn't know why or how. As the Doctor had told her, Vashta Nerada were microscopic, they were commonly viewed as the 'dust particles in sunlight'.

She could heard the VI's robotic tones just meters behind her. It repeated the same word, again and again. "D-d-d-d-die..." The sound of it's voice alone made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

She was getting tired, and yet she persevered. She knew the TARDIS was close, it had to be...

She rounded a shadowy corner and was greeted by an extremely welcome sight. The blue box stood tall in a shady clearing, covered in grey, dead leaves and a light dusting of snow. It's illuminated windows were cutting through the darkness, and the Doctor was standing before them, fumbling with the lock on the door urgently.

A few seconds later Clara was joined by three panting soldiers. And later by the last two, who were dashing backwards, guns raised. The Doctor opened the door and glanced over at them, speaking impatiently. "Well, what are you waiting for? In, in, in!"

Clara glanced behind her to see Greg's suit lumbering into the clearing, it's arms outstretched before it. She then stepped away from the TARDIS, ushering in the first three soldiers in her place. They dashed in without hesitation and the Doctor counted them off as they entered.

The last two soldiers begun to back into the TARDIS slowly but steadily, their guns were still raised and aimed at Greg's suit. Eventually, they both stepped backwards into the TARDIS, leaving Clara to quickly dash in and close the door behind her, panting as she leant on the hard wood of the door.

She was relieved they had made it, but not at all surprised. For it was just another wednesday, in the life of the Doctor and Clara Oswald...

_Firstly, 'Spoonhead' was not intended as a racial slur but instead it was referring to the enemies featured in 'The Bells of Saint John'. Just thought I'd put that out there._

_Secondly, remember to review if you think it could be improved, and follow my official Instagram account for all the latest news on these stories at 'mad_man_in_a_box_productions'. As I write this I'm just about to go and begin 'The Only Mystery Worth Solving' a one-shot revealing who exactly the 'Woman in the Shop' mentioned in 'The Bells of Saint John' was. So, I'm sorry, but there will be an extended wait between chapters this time around. I'll still try and upload a new chapter by the middle of next week though!_


	5. Chapter 5: Inside the Spaceship

Chapter 5: Inside the Spaceship

_Thanks to 'AWhovian' for their suggestion for a story. While it is a great suggestion, I don't ever write pure romance/shipping because, and I'll be honest with you guys, I get bored with it. I write adventure/sci-fi, I write dramatic, plot-heavy stories, I write thrillers. I sometimes toss a bit of romance in to give the characters a bit of a break but I never, ever, just write pure romance. Sorry about that, but I did include some Doctor/Clara romance in this chapter, as I made it a theme in 'A Night to Remember'. So, you Whoufflé shippers (and, I admit, I am among your ranks) reading my stories will be like watching the show, there will be the odd romantic moment between the two, but nothing really big or integral to the plot. Now, on with today's story!_

"Is there a kitchen in the TARDIS?" Clara asked, it was a question she had been wanting to ask for awhile now.

"Clara, you are inside a seemingly magical, time-travelling blue box that's bigger on the inside then it is on the outside... Of course there's a kitchen." He spoke that last sentence with a playful, mock annoyance to his tone. As if the fact that there would be a kitchen onboard the TARDIS was an obvious one.

Clara smiled at him in reply as he flicked several glowing switches on the control panels. Before straightening his back, turning on his heel and walking down the steps in an energetic rhythm.

He was stopped, however, by Clara, who continued the past conversation. "I don't why I asked that, it's just... My mum, before she died, she... She liked to bake Soufflés. She had a special recipe she used and a saying and everything."

He felt a chill run up his spine, a melancholic thought run through his head. What Clara was saying, unintentionally on her part, was reminding him of that fateful Christmas Eve. The same Christmas Eve he had met, and unfortunately lost, Clara for a second time. As he closed his eyes he could see her face, her heartbroken face, as she tumbled helplessly through the chilly winter's air, from the cloud... To her death.

He opened his eyes once more and suddenly realised his left foot had been hanging in the air that whole time, it was becoming numb as it transitioned between steps. He walked down the remaining stairs and stood there, listening to Clara speak, she was still talking about her mother's love for Soufflés. "I think, the saying went something like this: 'The Soufflé isn't the Soufflé, the Soufflé is the recipe...'" She looked up and finished reminiscing, unaware that that's exactly what the Doctor was doing.

Noticing his intense stare at the ground, Clara asked in a curious, yet concerned voice. "Doctor? Are you alright?"

The sound of Clara's voice broke the Doctor out of his trance, dug him out of his trench of painful memories. He looked up, turning around on his heel and replied. "Hm? Yes?"

Leaning on the TARDIS's balcony's railing, Clara responded. "Oh, it's just you looked a little bit... Odd. I mean odder then usual."

Resuming his usual bright persona, the Doctor responded in a cheery tone. "'Odder then usual?' On a scale of 1-10, I think I'm around the 4 or 5 mark, usually. How odd do you think I am?"

"Well, for starters there's the bow-tie..." Clara playfully replied.

"'Odd' and 'cool' are two very different adjectives meaning two very different things, Clara Oswald." He waved a scolding finger at her.

Ignoring him, she continued. "And then there's that chin..."

"My chin is not odd!" He shot back.

"Don't you ever feel it though and just think: 'Why is it so... Weird?'"

"Uh..." He was unable to choke out words of defences this time around, the best he could do was make unintelligible sounds.

"And then there's the small fact that you travel around time and space in a wooden blue box... I think it's safe to say you're as odd as they come. My friends all think I'm getting desperate."

The Doctor scratched his head briefly, he actually wasn't entirely sure what she meant by this. Instead, he just decided not to reply to it, he was becoming desperate and tired by now, Clara had worn him out. But at-least she had taken his mind off Victorian Clara's death and cheered him up a bit, he had needed that.

"Well, I'm just going to be in the lab, using my 'odd' hands and 'odd' tools to study this 'odd' piece of alien technology." With this, he retrieved the tube-like device that had fallen out of the crack on Gladriel and held it up in the air. Before stalking off down the roundel-covered maze of corridors that wormed their way around the TARDIS.

Later, Clara found the Doctor hunched over a table in the TARDIS's science lab, he was prodding the small, brown tube with a scalpel.

The room was small and square, it was coloured a mixture of greys, pale blues and polished, reflective silvers. The wall was covered with glowing roundels, standing in a line in-front of them was a collection of shelves, each containing boxes full of instruments of a medical and scientific kind. From stethoscopes and beakers, to highly-advanced alien equipment. In the rooms' centre was a large rectangular table, it was covered with clutter of all kinds. Including sets of boiling test tubes, complex apparatus's directing liquid in a continuous cycle, and split-open, dismantled alien equipment and machinery.

In the centre was the Doctor, he was holding the alien tube up to the light and was turning it around in his gloved hands. He was concentrating on it deeply, Clara was almost afraid to interrupt him. She spoke in a quiet tone. "Doctor?" She asked.

"Yes?" He replied, not looking away from the table.

"How's things with this alien tube-y... Thing." She couldn't find the right words to describe the queer little object.

"Well, for starters there's the obvious. It fell for a crack in time from one dimension into another, so naturally it's coated in the same type of energy the crack was formed by: Artron Energy. Or, in simpler terms, what's used to primarily power a TARDIS."

"So, that little device was..."

He didn't wait for her to finish, he just finished off her sentence for her. "...Being held by a creature from another dimension, another universe separate to our own. There was a huge explosion on one particular day, an explosion of Artron Energy, either in this universe or the universe these rifts are connected too. And every other moment in our history is cracking around it, that one explosion." He looked over at her and began making hand gestures to help with his explanation. He continued "It hasn't happened yet and it won't ever begun happening. Because it's happening right now, it's always been happening. Right from the before calculated universal time itself, from the ages of the Time Lords."

"Wait, 'Time Lords', they were your people weren't they? The race you belonged to?"

"Yes, before they... Before they... Burnt, all at once. I'm the only one left." He only sounded slightly sorrowful as he spoke. Even though the Time War had happened long ago, they hadn't left him, the awful memories, he doubted they ever would. But he had by now developed a way to block them out of his mind for long periods of time.

"What was it like? Their planet, your planet?" Clara asked, intrigued.

"Oh, it was, beautiful, just beautiful. The grass was a glorious mix of crimson and orange. The hills and mountains sloped up and down, marked by small towns and grand cathedrals, peaked by snow that glittered in the sunlight. They called it 'The Shining World of the Seven Systems'. And in the centre of it all, the Citadel, a marvel of Gallifreyan design and architecture. It was a metropolis of tall skyscrapers and levitating gardens, a centre of politics and education. Those were the days..." He begun to sound sentimental, his voice was tinged with sorrow and his face had become pale. He turned away from Clara and continued to tinker with the device, presumably to take his mind off Gallifrey.

Clara stared at the floor emptily for a few seconds, the Doctor's description of Gallifrey, it sounded like it had been such a beautiful world. She wondered why the Doctor had been unable to save it, the lengths he had gone too protect that world, must have been huge...

She shook her head, returning her conscious to reality. "Uh, sorry, I got us distracted. So, what is this little tube from another universe?"

"Well, from the looks of it it's a type of alien camera, an advanced recording device. It looks like Collector tech, which wouldn't surprise me..."

"Why wouldn't it? The Collectors are nearly-extinct, I doubt there would be much Collector tech around nowadays."

"No, it wouldn't surprise me because the hand that was holding it belonged to a Collector, it was the arm of a Collector that emerged from the rift." The Doctor responded, cracking open the camera as he talked.

He used the scalpel to pull out a little chip and held it up to the light. Before clicking it into the back of a large, 70's-style slide projector and activating it with the Sonic Screwdriver, dimming the lights of the room in the process.

Clara squinted as the Projector's light cut through the darkness, splashing a multicoloured picture onto the wall. "I just took out the camera's memory chip, we're now going though the most recent images it has been used to capture."

Clara and the Doctor gazed at the projected picture. It was the same image of Caliburn House, the Doctor, Clara, Emma Grayling and Alec Palmer, that Artie and Angie had shown Clara and the Doctor before. The Doctor activated the Sonic Screwdriver once more, the image then flicked to the Professor, Captain, Crew Members and the Doctor and Clara, standing in a corridor inside the Firebird.

"So that's who took those photos..." The Doctor muttered underneath his breath, before elaborating. "A Collector using a Collector camera. It must have discovered a crack in time in both the Firebird and Caliburn House. It must have torn them open, taking a photo of the events unfolding there and then retreating, stalking us through time. But why? So many questions, not enough answers." He sounded irritable and annoyed, despite having just got an answer, another piece of the puzzle.

"But I thought you liked mysteries..." Clara began.

The Doctor glanced up at her, smiling weakly before replying. "Yes, I do, I love mysteries, mysteries are lovely, lovely things. But they wear you down eventually... Every answer leaves you with another question. Every question gets you on the edge, trying to find another answer that will lead to another question and so on until you just eventually give up." He looked back up at her, at her beautiful eyes, her soft complexion, her hair that fell in curls, prettily onto her face. He continued once more, lowering his tone, gazing at her. "But they are, they truly are, very nice things."

He activated the Sonic Screwdriver once more, turning the lights back one and deactivating the projector. He popped out the chip and placed it back on dismantled circuitry of the camera, before pocketing the Sonic Screwdriver, drawing himself up to his full height and smiling once more at Clara. He then walked out of the lab, disappearing once more into the deep labyrinth of the TARDIS...

_So, was that any good? Let me know, I'd love to here your thoughts. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed, followed and viewed so far. Oh, and I DON'T OWN DOCTOR WHO. Don't know if the BBC really care about Fanfiction but I might as well as I did it with 'A Night to Remember'._


	6. Chapter 6: On the Eve of War

Chapter 6: On the Eve of War...

_I know, I know, I haven't been updating and I'm sorry but; and I'll be honest here, I really haven't been able to come up with good ideas for new stories recently so I've decided to just end this collection here and now with a Collector-plot-arc-focused story that reveals just what happened to Clara while the Doctor was being beaten by Gillenti during the events of 'A Night to Remember'. This chapter is basically a heap of foreshadowing and scene-setting for my next story 'The Harbinger's Call'._

She could feel a bright light beat down upon her eyelids, but she could not feel heat, or a chill, or a breeze, or anything. Everything just felt... Still. Still and empty.

She opened her eyes and sat up, she could see nothing but white mist. It curled and coiled on the ground, lapping up and lashing out before being instantly transformed into vapour. The mist stretched out as far as the eye could see. It lay on a solid surface, a floor, but there were no walls or ceiling to accompany it, there was just... Nothing.

She looked up, an extremely bright white sky hung above her. But there were no clouds populating this sky, no sun and no stars either, it was just that one, bright and sterile colour, pulsating and shining down upon her and the white sea of mist.

She was the lone shard of colour in the sea of white, her dark blue dress cut through the white mist jarringly. She had no idea where she was, or how she had got there. The last thing she could remember was a bright light shining out of a crack along the wall of a second class corridor and then her eyes were closed and she was laying here, in this empty, slightly-unsettling void of blank, white space.

Where was the Doctor? The last time she had seen him he was being dragged along a corridor by Gillenti and his men. It was a confusing, hectic moment, one that ended in Clara grabbing the Sonic Screwdriver from the ground and escaping with it, sprinting down the network of first class corridors. Until she eventually ran down the stairs that led to second and saw the glowing, pulsating crack.

She turned around once more, brushing a stray curl of brown hair out of her eyes, and then she saw it. It was a small, grassy hill, and on the top of it lay an oak tree. The tree was straight and flawless, it's leaves did not flutter in the breeze as there was no breeze, it simply just... Stood there, on the top of the idyllic, grassy hill.

Surprised she had not at first noticed it, she immediately began to walk towards it. She was drawn to it like a moth to a flame, no doubt as it was the only other sign of life in this empty, blank space.

But as she stepped towards it, cutting through the mist, she noticed something very strange. For the colour was draining out of the hill, and the tree. She watched with a confused expression on her face as the green grass coating the hill withered and died in just a few seconds. She watched as the whole form grew grey and lifeless. As the soil became crumbly and infertile. As the tree's trunk became grey and scarred. As the leaves lost their moisture and fell to the ground.

She tentatively took a few more steps forward, curious as to why, and how the hill was doing this. Every second the hill was falling to an even worse state of decay, losing it's colour, losing it's life, until eventually, once Clara reached the base, it was nothing but a mound of dull, grey, soil. The oak tree that topped was leafless and gaunt, it looked starved, skeletal. It's grey, contorted trunk gave way to a mess of tangled, knotted branches that stuck out like broken, contorted limbs.

The hill made Clara feel slightly melancholic, but she had little time to dwell on it. For when she turned on her heel once more she found the endless ocean of white mist had disappeared and had been replaced by a large, rocky plateau. A rugged collection of large, hard rocks that weaved and fitted together like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.

She turned back to the hill, it was still there, little but a mound of dirt topped by a twisted, contorted grey tree. The tree was overlooking the edge of the plateau, it stood there on it's lonesome, facing the dark, swirling skyline.

Intrigued and confused, Clara walked up the crumbly mound of dehydrated soil with great difficulty, her shoes caused her to stumble and lose her balance frequently as she trekked up the small hill.

When she reached the tree, she gripped it's trunk with one hand, using it as a handhold to push herself up onto the edge of the plateau. She reached the edge and looked out, in the distance pockets of cloud cover gave birth to curtains of rain, they fell in a rhythm onto the dark mountaintops that skirted around the plateau. The mountains surrounded a vast, rocky plain, it stretched out for miles on end.

Clara saw a flash of lighting in the distance, the flash was accompanied by a heavy, angry rumble of thunder and the sudden appearance of a stranger standing by the grey tree.

The stranger was a young man, he stood at just over 6 foot and was dressed in a long, dark trench coat (which covered a Victorian-style waistcoat.) His head was topped by a mess of curly, jet black hair. He was standing dramatically on a large rock next to the grey tree, throwing his arms out and yelling, in a deep, booming voice. "DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHO I AM? DO YOU?!"

Clara jumped slightly as another flash of lighting ignited the sky, and in that flash, the man disappeared. Clara stepped back, wide-eyed, away from the edge of the cliff and towards the space where the man had been standing. She hesitantly outstretched her hand and waved it across the empty surface of the rock a few times, before bringing it back and placing it on her chin.

Another flash of lighting signified yet another new arrival to the rocky surface of the plateau, this time, it was a singular, bug-like figure that appeared before her. It's curved, dark-green face was populated by four glowing eyes and a small opening that contained a set of sharp, pointed teeth. It's arms were thick and muscular and it's hands were clawed.

Clara jumped at the sight of it, bringing a hand to her mouth in shock. Before stepping back once more, back to the steep edge of the cliff, as it slowly walked towards her. A buzzing, clicking sound rang from it, it was a Collector.

The Collector clambered up the unstable ground of the hill before standing beside the tree and speaking, in the raspy, gurgle of a tone Collectors used. "You are Clara Oswald, also known as 'The Impossible Girl.' Do you know where you are?"

"No, I-I just... Who are you?" She shot back, taking another step away from the oak tree and the Collector.

"I am a member of the race known as the Collectors, I am assuming the Doctor has given you information related to us and our history?"

She nodded hesitantly, keeping her distance as she replied. "But... But the Collectors are dead, well, most of them are. Where am I? Did you bring me here?!"

The Collector replied matter-of-factly. "This information is incorrect, the Collectors are not deceased or nearing extinction. They are, in fact, just in exile, awaiting their chance to return to your universe. To answer your questions, you are in a pocket universe, a reality separate to your own. You came here via a tear in the fabric of reality, I brought you here through that tear."

"But why? Why am I here?" She shot back.

"Because you must tell the Doctor, relay information to him via me..." He drifted off.

"Tell him what?" She asked curiously.

"What he must know. For a dark shadow is falling over your universe, something vast is stirring in the darkest corners of this world, just waiting for the right time to leap out and strike... Shall I begin?"

Clara looked behind her, the dark clouds remained stretched over the vast plain, but they were no longer crackling with lighting, they had calmed down, for now.

She looked back at the dark form of the Collector and replied. "Yes."

"Very well, I will start with information regarding the universe you are currently in. It is a pocket universe, a dimension in time created occasionally by a massive, commonly cataclysmic, event in time. Are you familiar with the term?"

She was, and she felt no need to lie to the Collector, although she did not yet feel safe enough to approach it. "Yes, the Doctor and I entered one once. But that dimension was collapsing, the Doctor even said they only last for hours at a time, how come this one is so... Stable?"

"This dimension **is** collapsing. Ever since it was created it has been destroying itself, which is why the Skacions chose to throw my species here using their virus. Instead of killing us off with a traditional contagious plague, they chose to dispose of us cleanly by changing the very nature of our genetic structure, altering it so we existed out of their way, in a universe which would soon collapse and die. Then the Harbinger came, he stabilised this universes' condition, locked it in a permanent state of decay."

"Wait, I'm not sure, but... Is that even possible?"

The Collector nodded it's large head and replied. "Yes, locking something in a containment chamber of anti-time is Time Lord Engineering, it's extremely difficult and requires the power only something of Gallifreyan design can provide and harness."

Clara moved her eyes to the ground and placed one hand inquisitively onto her chin. "But what is the Harbinger? Is it a human? A Collector? A machine? A ship?"

"Unfortunately, I do not know. My species hear it's voice inside our heads, no matter where we are. We know little of the Harbinger and it's plans, but we are certain it was the one who ripped the tears in the fabric of the space-time continuum, the holes that are allowing passage from your universe into ours, and vice versa. My Collector comrades are planning to use these tears to invade your universe, with the help of the Harbinger."

"Why? Why would they want to do that? They have a peaceful existence, here they exist in a state away from the rest of creation. Why would they want to launch a massive attack on my universe?"

"The Harbinger has indoctrinated them, taken control of their minds, they worship him as a god, as a saviour. They will follow his orders, for he is planting the idea in their mind that it is righteous to do so. Right now, his mind control is reaching into their deepest, darkest desires. The Collector's were once a great race, a powerful, proud, democratic society. In your universe they have been reduced to scavengers. While that is a terrible fate, in this one they have been reduced to nothing mindless slaves and thugs, carrying out the orders of an entity that they know nothing about." He finished and looked down at the uneven ground. His green eyes pierced through the darkness of the clouds, as they looked overhead.

Clara looked around for a second, taking a moment to compute what the Collector had just said, before replying in an uncertain tone. "But... If the Collectors are having ideas planted into their heads, being controlled without even realising it, do you have free-will? How do you know if you do or don't?"

The Collector took a moment to consider this, before explaining. "I was once a Shaman of the Calidrian Seas. A hermit, a lone figure, a person who has given up his identity and those he loves too the study of life, the universe and everything. For years I loved in a small, dank cave along the Calidrian coast, meditating and observing the seemingly endless cycle of life and death on the surface of the Collector home world. A human like you would call it a 'life-long Pilgrimage'... A life living alone, with your only relationship being with the spiritual world. I strengthens your mind and soul, prolongs your lifespan. When the Harbinger came and cast it's spell across this universe I was one of the few who was not affected by it, for I had learnt the art of mental resistance years ago, as had my Shaman brothers and sisters. We have collaborated and decided to bring an end to the Harbinger's plans the only way we believe to be effective... By requesting the Doctor's assistance. Through the cracks, we have seen you and the Doctor, we have seen what you have done. Now, we ask you to bear this message to him, in the hope that he can help fend off this Collector attack. Are there any more questions of yours I can answer?"

Clara turned back from the Collector Shaman, looking out over the dark plains once more, this gave her an idea for another question. "Yes, where... Where am I? I mean, I know I'm in this separate universe but... Shouldn't it just be all... White? There's nothing here and there's not meant to be, in this universe you just, sort of, exist. Don't you? How come there are cliffs and plains and trees and stuff where we are now?"

"You are witnessing a projection the Harbinger has provided. We have no idea how or where he got it from, but he has managed to paint an image, a landscape, onto the blank canvas that is this universe. He has several different images he projects, one thing they all have in common, is the fact they are taken from moments in the Doctor's life. For example, this one you are standing in the middle of now is taken from a great battle he will take part in, an event that will decide his fate. A conflict that will eventually become known as 'The Battle of Trenzalore'."

Clara felt a chilling feeling run up her spine, crawling and creeping across her back before reaching her neck and causing the hairs on the back of it to stand on end in apparent fright. She let out a shiver, turning to face the Collector Shaman and stammering out. "W-what did you say? Trenzalore, I've seen that name alongside the Doctor's before, I swear I have but... I-I can't remember..." She closed her eyes and shook her head, feeling slightly sick.

In-front of her the Collector continued. "Yes, Trenzalore is a name often associated with the Doctor's. It is the sight of one of the only recorded utterances of his real name, and is believed by many to be his final resting place, the sight of his tomb... His grave."

Clara opened her eyes once more to witness an almighty lighting strike. It shook the ground, unveiling yet another image of the strange, dark-haired man Clara had caught a brief glimpse of before. He was retreating from the cliff edge that Clara was standing over, making his way past the crooked, dead tree and across the plateau, his dark trench coat trailing behind him. Another flash of lighting signified the disappearance of the dark, slightly sinister figure.

Clara looked back at the Collector Shaman and stammered out "I-I want to leave, I want to to leave this place. I have no more questions and I know what I have to do..."

The Collector nodded it's large, triceratops-like head, blinking it's glowing eyes in the process. Before raising one clawed hand and replying. "Yes, you did. But then, you forgot..."

With this, Clara collapsed onto the uncomfortable, rocky surface of the plateau, her left arm dangled lifelessly over the edge of the cliff, her brown hair falling in curls onto her closed eyelids.

The Collector walked towards Clara's unconscious body, making a hissing, gurgling sound and clicking it's pincer-like claws. It spoke to her body, explaining what had happened to her mind. "Fear not, human. I wish not to harm you. I am merely erasing your memory of these past events bar the vital information you must deliver to the Doctor. I have induced you into a coma-like state to easily plant your need to tell the Doctor the information you have acquired inside your head. When the time is right, it will reveal itself and you will remember most of what you learned here. But not all, only the vital, important parts."

And in a sudden, bright flash, Clara Oswald was gone...

**To Be Continued in 'The Harbinger's Call'.**

_And that's that, the final chapter of 'Next Stop: Everywhere'. Quite a long time after the events of 'A Night to Remember' (around the same time of Chapter 5: Inside the Spaceship) Clara remembers most of what she was told in this chapter, bar the information about Trenzalore and the Doctor's Final Battle. She tells the Doctor of the Collectors and their scheme, about the pocket universe and the Harbinger. And then, well, cue the events of my next story 'The Harbinger's Call', the first chapter of which will be released tomorrow! The story will act as a 'season finale' and is the final chapter of 'the Collector arc' I began in 'A Night to Remember'. It will close off that story arc and bring closure to elements I've introduced over the past two stories. It will be dark, it will be dramatic, it will get under the skin of the Doctor and his character and (hopefully) it will be epic, but that's for you guys to decide! Remember, following me as an author keeps you up-to-date with my stories, following my official Instagram account at 'mad_man_in_a_box_productions' also serves a similar purpose. If you think my stories could be improved remember to review them, following and favouriting is also highly appreciated if you like them. If you have a question for me you can always PM me. I hope you guys all enjoyed this little experimental joint of mine into short-story territory. Just to let you know, it's not something I think I'll do again anytime soon. I just prefer writing detailed, plot-heavy stories that are as long as they need to be._

**Next Time: Humanity is under attack, the Doctor is dying, Clara Oswald is missing, the TARDIS has been almost-completely obliterated and the Collectors are spreading over the universe. For a dark shadow is falling over creation, the shadow of a Harbinger...**


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